Daddy's Hands
by Dark Kaneanite
Summary: Sometimes being ignored is the worse thing in the world,but then sometimes being ignored is a blessing in disguise.


_A/N: Another fic spawned by 'Twist of Fate: The Matt and Jeff story'. Again, if you don't think outside of the box and try new things then don't read, I really don't want to hear about how it's wrong or how it's not cannon. _

_As always I don't own anyone and I don't have any money. So just sit back and enjoy the ride. Also this is Matt Hardy/Michael PS Hayes. Learn your history if you don't know who that is. =)_

* * *

We did it! We're champions. Surely now he'll see _me _, see what I bring to the team. As we congregate backstage Jeff's jumping and whooping like a madman as he caresses the shiny title; his face reflected back at him.

"Well now boy, see I told you you'd be champs one day. You've earned it."

Like always his praise is aimed at Jeff and I edge away, the euphoria of the moment usurped by the darkness of being over looked. The long sought after prize of tag title gold leaves a sour taste in my mouth and when they're taken to have our names put on I let it go easily; my eyes trailing over to where Jeff is being coddled and fussed over by Michael, his face glowing as his eyes sparkle. As always they look preoccupied with each other so I have leave, my hands shoved deep into the pockets on the ring cargos.

I pass The Alcolytes on my self banishment and I smile wanly as they congradulate me on the match; John touting that I was going to be the next face of the 'F and that the good things were just beginning for me. They clap me on the back and move on and it's not too long before I find myself in a secluded corner as hot tears start to fall from my eyes while I try to sob quietly so as not to alert those that someone is there. It baffles me some times how much I go out of my way to please as if he's father, hell I jokingly call him my 'wrestling daddy' but it seems as I'm starting to believe it. My need for his approval and praise so great that I'm starting to resent my own brother; my own flesh and blood.

With a sigh I lean my head back against the icy concrete wall and close my eyes, wishing the overwhelming and unwarranted disappointment at being over looked by him would disappear and let me savor the sweet taste of a dream realized. My thoughts and wishes must have taken me so far from reality that the hand on my knees surprised me and I jumped with small yelp.

"Sorry kid, guess I shoulda said something first."

He smiles at me and I blink twice before looking around for Jeff, knowing that he has to be tagging alone somewhere. As if he can read my mind, he grins and chuckles; leaning up against the crate I made my perch on in my bid of solitary confinement.

"It's just me Matt."

"Oh...are we getting ready to leave?"

"Not yet. I just wanted to let you know how well you did tonight. You brought your A-game and showed the people that you're a contender."

His words settle in my heart and I start to fell warm; my lips quirking into a half smile. The hand on my knee moved north slowly, the heat seeping in and spreading to pool in a place it had no business pooling. I once more blink my eyes at him, flicking my gaze from his face to his hand and then back again, wondering if he's doing what I think he's doing. I might not be a part of the main roster in the back but I've heard stories, and a couple have started out similarly to this.

"Matt, you've reall come into your own under my tutledge and it shows. You may sometimes be forgotten, but don't you forget that you have to take what you want. Carve your niche Matt, claw and did and show them all the wonderful, talented, caring, handsome man I know."

His voice dropped in pitch and when I looked back up at him, his eyes were trained on my face, a far away look in them. I cough and place my hand over his, halting the slow circles that he's drawing on my inner thigh . He smiles at me and one of his hands come up and tangle in my hair, slipping my coal colored curls through his fingers as he continues to stare. I start to feel uncomfortable and I start to say something but with a movement that is belied by his age and size, he pulls me from the crate and crashes our lips together, slipping his tongue into my mouth as his hands clamp around my waist and hold me close.

At first I'm too shocked to do anything other than let him do it, the feel of his tongue against mine foreign but at the same pleasurable. His lips are soft against mine as they move and I slowly and hesitantly bring my hands up to rest on his chest, the heavy thundering thud against my hand making me mew quietly. He lets go of my waist and cups my face, the fleshy pads of his thumbs stroking the plump fullness as he lightly presses a knee upwards, adding pressure to my groin and making me aware of it's hardened state. When he pulls away for air a blush covers my face and I look down, hiding behind my hair and waiting for him to scream at me, to say something about the shameful situation I have found myself in.

Instead he bends his head and bites down on my throat, running his tongue over the skin before sucking lightly. My skin felt as if it were on fire and I whimpered loudly, and my hands grip at his shirt; tugging him closer to me. Automatically my hips start to buck; rocking slightly against his knee and sending the most amazing sensations through my body. He continues to bite and suck at my neck, his hands tangling in my hair and tugging hard enough to make me cry out. The actions and feelings combined make me groan and I grind down harder against him, gripping as the muscles in my stomach clench and bunch almost painfully.

Michael moves us slightly so that instead of the crate I'm pushed up against the wall and he hurriedly relieves us of both our pants, mine being left on the ground as he uses the concrete to help hold me up. A moment of pain flashes through me but the pained whimper never gets a chance to leave my throat. Michael crashes his lips back down over mine and thrusts his tongue into my mouth as he thrusts into my body. The large head of his cock brushes against something deep inside and I try to scream out, but it's muffled by Michael and each slam after that finds that spot and arch backwards, ripping my lips away and howling as I cum, my release escaping rapidly to paint Michael's shirt.

As I come down slowly he speeds up and stills and the feeling of something hot, thick and wet fills me, leaking out when he slides free. My chest rises and falls as I watch him gathering our clothes; smiling slightly when he holds out the black cargos. No other words are spoken between us, but it's not awkward, there's a new understanding between us; while Jeff gets the vocal praise, I get the physical and more important praise.

...At least that's what I tell myself after all the midnight visits that aren't talked about come the mornings light.


End file.
